Barnabas Monkeypants

Here’s a somewhat crazy comment, but I’m in a mood, so I’ll make it:

Infants all tend to like the same thing.

There, I said it.

I think a lot of parents would immediately start saying I’m full of it and their baby is nothing like their neighbors (okay, if I had more than 20 readers, that’s what they’d say), but really, let’s think about it. They like to sleep, eat, be held, and go to the bathroom, and that pretty much takes up 95% of their time. The other 5% is where things differ, but we parents spend more time thinking about that small fraction than the huge chunk where we know what we have to do.

But, see, that 5% is where the baby product companies make all their money.

Now, I’m not being negative, and I love, love, love all those baby products, but I think in an attempt to make Henry constantly happy, Kristen and I have spent a exorbitant amount of money on things that, in the long run, really don’t make much of a difference. (We’re no different than any other parents, by the way.) And I think we are easily swayed by what other parents say and what products they recommend.

For example, Henry was fussy when he was a couple of weeks old, and one of read that a swing is the way to soothe a baby. So we quickly ordered a Fisher Price swing, and $78 later it now is collecting dust in his room. He doesn’t like it one bit. In fact, he hates it. (If you know anyone who wants a swing, drop us a line.) The same thing goes for the vibrating cradle. He can stand it for about 93 seconds, and then out comes the frown, quickly followed by the wails.

And the thing is, people swear by these products. (And in no way am I saying that they’re bad. Some babies love them. It’s just that Henry doesn’t.) So I’m really hesitant to take advice from other parents when it comes to baby products, because I immediately think that they’re not good.

Of course, that doesn’t stop me from giving my own opinion.

One example is the Miracle Blanket, a swaddling blanket that has made Henry a champion sleeper practically from day one. It’s something that I would recommend to every parent (and I do).

Another example is baby carriers. Our friend Leiah gave us, among other things, a Bjorn carrier that she used with her daughter. This is probably the best selling product in its category, and it was something we were going to buy (but Leiah saved us $55). The thing is, Henry hates it. HATES IT. I tried on a couple of occasions to get him in there, and, oh, the wailing. So we ordered an Ergo carrier (and accompanying infant insert), which cost a little less than half of what I paid for my black Subaru mind you, and tried that out.

Well, Henry loves it. He’ll sit in it and look around and smile and then, because it’s what he does best, fall asleep. Saturday morning, Kristen and I went for a walk, and instead of a stroller, I had him pressed close against my chest, his head close enough for easy kissing.

So what’s the point of this post? I’d like to say it’s that you don’t need to do anything other than feed, change, hug, and have a crib ready for your baby, but it’s really that parenting is as much a crap-shoot as anything else.

And that it’s expensive.

And that everyone should listen to what I say because my advice is better than anyone else’s. (Except if it doesn’t work for you.)

So there.

* * * * * *

This weekend Kristen’s brother came to Chicago for a visit and to meet Henry. Like everyone who’s met Henry, Jay fell for the kid. It was sweet.

I like Jay a lot, and, not to sound silly, but he’s grown up quite a bit since I met him when he was 16 (not that I didn’t expect him to). For example, here’s my favorite story when Jay was not so grown up:

After dating Kristen for about 6 months, she went off to Oxford to study for a year. Although she was out of the country and we had only been seeing each other for a relatively short period of time, I was somehow cajoled into helping her father move. So, one cool fall weekend morning, I drove over to his place in Hillsborough, New Jersey, and with the help of Jay and one of Jay’s friends (both who arrived an hour late), started loading up a moving van with large (and heavy) pieces of furniture.

At around 10 in the morning, Jay turns to me and says that he has to leave, that he has to go to work. So off drives Jay and his friend, leaving me in the driveway, my mouth wide open, mad as can be.

That’s right, me, the boyfriend, was helping out Kristen’s father, while he, the son, was off making $5.35 an hour at the local pharmacy.

So Kristen’s father and I finish loading up the truck, drive all the way down to his new place near the shore (about 90 minutes away), unload the furniture, and drive back.

When I saw Jay again a couple of months later during the holidays, I related how angry I was. Being 16, he just laughed it off. And I was more mad than the moving day!

Hmmm. Come to think of it, I’m not sure why this is my favorite Jay story. I was sore for a week!

Anyway, it’s good that he’s a mature adult now and that he understands that when all else fails, just buy your pouting nephew a dinosaur shirt, and all is forgiven.

This entry was posted on Monday, October 20th, 2008 at 5:25 pm and is filed under Barnabas, Kristen. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.